Near Harvard Square T Stop, 5:12 pm

Stepping off the T, I recalled previous trips made here in bitter cold. While the wind caused dry leaves to skip and rattle along the sidewalk, the breeze was light, and, while not warm, not cold enough to sting.

I came up after class to get a great many books from a list I was given. At the moment, though, I was standing on the corner watching this guy drumming. He was using plastic buckets and some other stuff for drums, including what looked to be parts of an old refrigerator. I noted wryly that he seemed to be more talented than many drummers in bands with drum kits. The beats made me want to dance, or to improvise a tune along with the drumming. I resisted the temptation, but tossed a few coins in the upturned collection bucket and headed on my way.

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We set up a coupla hours ago, roundabout the T station. Me an Georgy (that's what I been callin him since we was kids) brought all da shit up from Quincy. Plastic buckets are easy to find, we just grabs em from behind Quik Wok. I got the old tin fridge drawer from our beer fridge in the garage. It makes a great sound, ya know? Kinda tinny, an LOUD.

A bunch of kids have been standin around here. They really get into it, ya know? Few of them toss me money, but it don't matter to me if I make a buck. It's usually just foolin around for me. God knows the wife would tear me up if I ever got me a real drum set in the house. Today, though, I'm out here cause I'm tryin to get her something real nice, on account of our anniversary. We don't never have much extra, me workin at the lumberyard and her at the IHOP, but I been savin, a little at a time, to buy her this ring she wanted. Problem is, I still need thirty-forty bucks. So I'm hoping the bucket fills up, you know what I'm sayin?

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